


Run!

by flawsinthevoodoo



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:44:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawsinthevoodoo/pseuds/flawsinthevoodoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chris Argent catches Stiles and Derek in the woods carnage ensues, though not the kind he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece of a bigger universe that I am working on fleshing out so this is AU but most of this piece is not really all that divergent. I haven't written in a while so I am trying to get back on the horse with this. All mistakes are the result of my own incompetence and not the beautiful betaing of only-the-clouds and alohasoy from tumblr.

“Run!”

The shout shook Stiles out of his paralysis, and he jerked to his feet, running blindly forward into the thorny undergrowth in front of him. He fled ignoring the way the thorns tore at his clothing and scratched at his skin, forcing his burning muscles to carry him farther and farther from the clearing where Derek had stood staring down the barrel of Mr. Argent’s gun. A rock made its way under his feet. He fell, tasting blood as he bit through the lip he had been chewing on, a nervous habit. Cursing, he scrambled back to his feet, only freezing as the sound of a gunshot echoed through the woods around him. Fear and rage bubbled forth, forcing an incoherent roar from his vocal chords. Had the Argent patriarch heard it, he would have known he had let free a creature just as dangerous as the wolf. Stile turned back towards the gunshot, running headlong for the clearing. He burst out of the bushes , his lips peeled back in a soundless snarl, his human hands curled like claws. Derek lay on the ground, blood seeping from a wound in his side, pooling beneath him and soaking into soil. Mr. Argent’s head whipped around, eyes widening as he caught sight of Stiles. His gaze flickered between Derek and Stiles, gun wavering, assessing the threats before swinging his arm around to point the gun directly into Stiles’ face. Unswayed by the imminent danger to himself, seeing only the blood staining Derek’s shirt, Stiles barreled forward, unsheathing his knives with a practiced flick of his wrists. The hunter’s arm came up to block Stiles on his downswing while his other arm pressed the gun barrel to Stiles’ temple, leaving his throat open for the blade in Stiles’ other hand. They sprang apart, Stiles falling into a protective crouch over Derek’s prone body, Mr. Argent resuming his shooting stance.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Stiles. You’re a human, you aren’t a part of this,” Mr. Argent said, almost pleading, raising his eyes up to meet Stiles’, giving a minute flinch at their inhuman glint.

“Are you so sure? Because I want to hurt you,” Stiles gritted out, baring blunt human teeth.

“I’ll give you one more chance here, Stiles. For my daughter’s sake,” Mr. Argent warned, his voice low and threatening.

Stiles gave a short, cold chuckle, his voice a little raspy. “I don’t think I’m the one who needs a chance to run here, Mr. Argent.” He tilted his head, eyes unfocused, listening for a distant sound of howls ringing out. “You’ve harmed my alpha and,” his grin turned feral, whiskey-tinted eyes refocusing, broken glass sharp on the hunter’s face, assessing, “my pack is coming to make you pay. The only question is, will they get here in time to save you?”

The patriarch almost stumbled as he flung himself backwards away from the charging teen, who was turning out to be much more dangerous than expected. Stiles slashed and stabbed with expert speed and precision, ignoring miss after miss until he caught Mr. Argent off guard, slicing a wide swath of red across his chest. Stiles leapt at the now-wounded man, tackling him to the ground and raising his knives for one more, probably fatal, stab, when his wrist was caught in an inhuman grasp. Surprise and relief warred with fear on Chris Argent’s face as he saw the bright red eyes of an Alpha wolf shining from Derek Hale’s enraged face. In the blink of an eye Stiles changed from deranged killer to calm and solemn pack member, tilting his neck, baring his throat and whimpering for the Alpha’s approval. Derek immediately yanked him up from on top of Mr. Argent and pulled him close, snuffling at the teen’s neck.

“I thought I told you to run?” Derek demanded in a guttural growl.

“I was running but I heard him hurt you and I…” Stiles lowered his eyes meekly and let out a small whine as Derek, still ignoring the hunter on the ground, nipped disapprovingly at the throat bared before him.

“Idiot,” he rumbled letting a hint of his pleasure show through.

Chris Argent, sensing an opening, started to crawl away towards the gun that had been knocked from his hands by Stiles’ tackle, only to be met with four sets of angry glowing amber eyes. His trickle of dread swelled to a stream. The pack had arrived. Stiles turned, resting the his shoulder blades against his Alpha’s chest, smirk returning unrepentant. “I’ll give you one last chance, Mr. Argent, for your daughter’s sake. Run. Now. If we ever see you again on our lands, we will kill you. So run, Mr. Argent; we’ll even give you a head start.”

Chris Argent, finally letting his terror show on his face, ran for his life, hearing Stiles’ voice giving a lilting countdown intertwined with the howls of the pack ready for a hunt.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on Tumblr because that is where most of the rest of this is going to be posted:) flawsinthevoodoo.tumblr.com


End file.
